Frederic shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
Matilda’s face was reddened, the tears flowing freely. Her Mother stared at Frederic with undisguised hostility. Father cleared his throat, then with his index finger indicated for Frederic to follow.
The two walked through the dining room, kitchen, down the steps and through the breezeway, into the empty two-stall garage.
Bitch, Frederic reflected. In this day and age a woman was supposed to know what she was doing.
Father stopped in the garage center, turning to face the young man. He extracted a cigar from his chest pocket and began unwrapping it.
“You got anything to say for yourself, Boy?”
“I…uh…not really,” Frederic managed to stammer.
Father grunted. “I expect not,” he said, sticking the cigar in his kisser. “I figured we better come out here for this little chat. There’s too much boo-hooing going on in there. In case you didn’t know, that’s the way women are.”
Frederic nodded, and gulped.
Father flared a wooden match with his thumbnail, then lit the cigar. He blew out a large cloud of smoke.
“She has two older sisters. They managed to find husbands without getting themselves knocked-up first.”
Frederic gulped, and gave a slight nod.
Father belched out another grunt, crossing his arms. “Matilda is twenty three years old. A man gets antsy with a single twenty three year old daughter still under his roof.”
Frederic stood in silence, waiting.
Father blew out another cloud of smoke.”My first two daughters turned out alright.From this point on,this one is your responsibility. You, my boy, are getting the lazy one. I was beginning to think I was never going to offload her.”
Musings while enjoying a Romantic Flamenco guitar CD,”Obsession”, and the CD Buena Vista Social Club.